


Sam's Favorite Cafe

by snugglechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Barista Gabriel, Christmas, Flirty Dean, Jealous Sam, M/M, Minor Gabriel/Dean Winchester, and bad at naming cafes, dean and gabe flirt but its all good, flirty Gabriel, gabe wears makeup, ps im bad at titles can you tell?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9160720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snugglechesters/pseuds/snugglechesters
Summary: “Slammer!” Sam jerks his head to the right, where the voice had come from behind the barista counter. A short man is waving frantically from behind the counter, his springy Santa hat lurching on his head dangerously. “Sammy boy, you are late, sir!” He tsk’s, shaking his head. “That kind of behavior won’t fly around here, no siree.”Sam’s face is burning, but he smiles nervously in response and swallows before he turned to Dean, painfully casual. Dean’s just smirking at him. “So that’s why you wanted to get here so fast,” he says, lowly enough so he wouldn’t be heard by anyone else.“What?” Sam scoffs, voice cracking a little. “No. I just—come here after class, like I said. So, they kinda know me here, that’s all.”Dean chuckles and starts moving to the counter. “Whatever you say, Slammer,” he whispers as he walked by.





	

“Jesus, Sammy, where’s the fire?” Dean grips as Sam passes the colorful shops with a quickening stride. “The vanilla bean fraps will still be there in five minutes. Why are you so goddamn eager?”

“I’m not eager,” Sam replies immediately, ignoring the jab at his coffee preferences. He purposefully slows his pace a little, though. “I just…don’t want it to be too busy. They get busy around this time,” he adds a tad defensively.

“Uh huh,” Dean grunts skeptically. “Whatever you say, just keep in mind not everyone has your freakishly long legs.” He shoves his hands deeper in his pockets against the autumn chill, and Sam fights to match his casual stride, not wanting to further Dean’s suspicions.

Not that he had anything suspicious to be about. Sam went to Heavenly Beans almost every day Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after his Environmental Law class. He knew that it got busy around that time…some days. But he didn’t want to take the chance. That was all.

Leaves fall and swirl around the brothers’ feet as they make their way along the cracked sidewalks in companionable silence.

 

/ / /

 

The little bell above the door tinkles as Sam pushes the wooden door of Heavenly Beans open. It is decidedly _not_ busy, in any sense of the word. A few people sit at the scattered, mismatched tables along the left wall and there is one girl sitting near the fireplace at the far end of the shop, reading. Dean eyes the large room, then turns a raised eyebrow on his brother.

Sam forces a casual chuckle “Well, I guess we got lucky today!”

Just as Dean opens his mouth to reply, he’s cut off my a loud and enthusiastic voice yelling, “Slammer!” Sam jerks his head to the right, where the voice had come from behind the barista counter. A short man is waving frantically from behind the counter, his springy Santa hat lurching on his head dangerously. “Sammy boy, you are _late_ , sir!” He tsk’s, shaking his head. “That kind of behavior won’t fly around here, no siree.”

Sam’s face is burning, but he smiles nervously in response and swallows before he turned to Dean, painfully casual. Dean’s just smirking at him. “So _that’s_ why you wanted to get here so fast,” he says, lowly enough so he wouldn’t be heard by anyone else.

“What?” Sam scoffs, voice cracking a little. “No. I just—come here after class, like I said. So, they kinda know me here, that’s all.”

Dean chuckles and starts moving to the counter. “Whatever you say, _Slammer,”_ he whispers as he walked by. Sam glares at him, but hurries to reach the counter first.

“Hi, Gabe,” he says, smiling and trying to breathe normally. Gabe, the excitable barista, is wearing a candy cane striped shirt under his green apron, and his gold hair is tucked behind his ears under the Santa hat. Now that they’re closer, Sam can see that he’s wearing bold red lipstick and has sparkly green powder on his eyelids, framed by gold eyeliner. His red mouth quirks and Sam purposefully keeps his eyes from following the motion.

“Finally, a response,” Gabe remarks sarcastically. “And who’s this Ken doll?” he adds, looking Dean up and down exaggeratedly.

Sam coughs and Dean’s smirk only grows. “He’s—”

“Dean,” his brother cuts in. “I’m his big bro.”

Sam huffs and continues talking. “Yes. Dean just came to visit me this weekend, so we’re just hanging around campus, you know, seeing the sights.“ He feels Dean watching him, probably raising his damn eyebrow again, but he ignores it. He gestures to the man across the counter. “And Dean, this is—”

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Sam is cut off again, now by Gabe, who is staring at Dean with a flirty look. “The name’s… _Gabriel_ ” he repeats in a breathy voice, drawing out the end of the word. He dramatically thrusts his hand out towards Dean, bracelets jangling, wrist up and palm down.

Dean carefully takes it and Sam has a wild moment where he thinks Dean is going to _kiss_ Gabe’s hand and it’s strangely difficult to breathe, but Dean just shakes it with a chuckle. Sam internally berates himself for thinking that, but he’s also watching Gabe very carefully. He knows that Gabe is flirty with everyone, but he’s never quite sure when he’s joking or being serious.

“I dig your makeup, dude,” Dean says and Sam rounds on him, prepared to bitch him out or at least glare at him for being an asshole, but Dean actually looks sincere. He adds, “It’s really festive. Looks like it took a long time.” Sam smiles in surprise, his chest feeling less constricted. It’s like he and Gabe are— _dating_ or anything, but they _are_ good friends, and it surprises Sam how much he appreciates his brother’s apparent approval.

Gabe honestly looks surprised too, but he hides it well. “Well, thanks! I’m glad _someone_ appreciates all the work I go through to make this happen.” He eyes Sam and Dean laughs while Sam hides another blush.

“Dean’s a Christmas freak actually. He starts decorating the second Thanksgiving is over, sometimes before,” Sam says, elbowing his brother, who immediately elbows back.

“Man after my own heart,” Gabe sings, then drums on the counter. “So! Coffee? Sam—the usual?” he asks, whipping out a cup.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam stammers, as Dean repeats, “Usual?”

“Sammy Sosa comes in here like, thrice a week, sometimes more, and he always orders the same thing: boring ole’ medium Hazelnut latte” Gabe explains as he’s writing on the cup. “Except for the times I get him to try one of my experimental drinks.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “And what’ll you be having, Mr. Vitruvian Man?” he asks Dean.

Sam’s smile drops a bit and he bites his lip, looking to the side and trying his best to seem like Gabe’s flirting doesn’t bother him. _Gabe_ flirting with his _brother._

“Medium coffee, black, thanks,” Dean answers.

“Psh, no no no no _no_ ,” Gabe wails, looking faintly disgusted. “None of that pedestrian monotone bullshit. Black coffee is for divorced, middle aged parents and paranoid, alcoholic writers. And my dad is both so I’m kind of an expert.” He grabs another cup and flips it once in his hands. “ _You_ , sir, are getting what I call ‘Christmas in a Cup’, to satisfy your obviously insatiable holiday thirst.”

 _God, how many times did Gabe_ have _to wink at Sam’s brother?_

Sam reaches for his wallet, but Dean stops him with a hand on his arm. ‘I got it, Sammy. You are a struggling student after all, and you’re clearly already spending most of your college savings here anyway.”

Sam begins to protest, but Gabe cuts them both off with a wave of his hand. “Forget it, amigos, it’s on the house.”

“Gabe,” Sam starts. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to, Slammer,” Gabe replies with a grin that makes Sam’s heart flutter. His answering smile is huge and he says, “Thanks, Gabe,” quietly, probably too intimately for the current situation. Gabe clicks his tongue and winks, turning to make the drinks.

Sam stares after him for a few seconds then turns back to his brother. Dean is just staring at him with a “ _Really_?” look on his face. Sam tries to ignore it and adopts the most normal facial expression he could, but he’s not really sure how it ends up looking because Dean just gives him an even weirder look in response.

“You are _transparent_ , Samuel,” he mutters. “I thought I was gonna start puking up rainbows or something.”

“Shut up,” Sam says reflexively. He leads them to a table and sits down, trying not to make it obvious that he’s fidgeting.

 

He attempts to catch up with his brother a little more, but Dean won’t stop bringing up Gabriel.

“I mean, he’s a wild guy, kinda weird, but funny,” Dean is saying, watching Gabe dance around the machines. “He seems cool.”

“Yeah..?” Sam murmurs questioningly, not really sure how to respond. Dean just looks at Sam, then rolls his eyes. “ _What_?” Sam hisses, annoyed at his brother’s attitude, and honestly a little bothered by his apparent interest in Gabriel.

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Gabe’s voice rings out “Ken Doll, Slamajamma, you’re up!”

“I’ll get ‘em!” Dean jumps up and practically runs over to the counter.

 _It’s_ fine, Sam thinks heatedly. _I’m_ fine.

Sam watches Dean while also trying to make it look like he _isn’t_ watching. Dean leans over the counter towards Gabe conspiratorially, and says something that makes Gabe’s perma-smile drop for a second in surprise, his eyebrows rising. But, as Dean keeps talking, his smile returns and becomes a smirk. He hums something in reply and Dean grabs a napkin, plucking a pen right from Gabe’s shirt. He scrawls across it for a second, then slides it over with a grin and a wink. Gabe plucks it off the counter and tucks it in his pocket, like it’s something precious. He says some final words before Dean snatches the two cups and waltzes back over, a smug smile in place.

Sam can’t quite decide if it feels like _he_ got punched in the gut or like he wants to punch _his brother_ in the gut.

 

“What’s eating you?” Dean demands after Sam grabs his drink and stares passed him silently for a few minutes.

Sam sighs. “Nothing, sorry,” he apologizes, biting his lip. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Whatever you say,” Dean mutters, raising his eyebrow in a way that said he doesn’t believe Sam, but isn’t going to talk about _feelings_ if he doesn’t have to.

 

They talk for a while longer, Sam trying to hide his disappointment when he notices Gabe continually glancing over to them out of the corner of his eyes. _Just can’t take his eyes off Dean, I guess_ , he thins sourly. They finish their drinks and plan to go back to Sam’s apartment to watch some movies.

As they walk out, Sam gives a big brave smile to Gabe and waves him goodbye. “Bye, Gabe!”

“See ya next week, Samshine!” he calls, twirling in place. He stamps his foot and points at Dean. “And _you_ , hope to see you soon too, Dean-o.”

Dean chuckles and, winking, says, “Oh, I’m sure you will.”

Nope, Sam definitely wants to punch his brother. Right in his freaking kidney.

“Farewell!” Gabe calls, as they exit the building.

He storms ahead and Dean follows, cackling. When he’s done he shakes his head. “Oh, man. You are too easy, Sammy.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam grumbles.

“Oh, nothing,” Dean whistles and quickens his pace to pass Sam, strolling down the street.

Sam mutters curses while he trudges after his obnoxious brother. He hears the _ding_ of his cell and grabs it from his pocket.

There’s a text from an unknown number that just says, “ _You’re cute when you’re jealous_ ” with a winky face. Sam scrunches his face in confusion and rereads it a few times.

“ _Uh, who is this..?”_ he responds, honestly not up for whatever this is right now. A wrong number, probably.

“ _Just a small, sizzlin’ caramel frappuccino wondering if the extra tall hazelnut latte will accept his invitation to dinner_.”

Sam stops and stares at his phone, his heart pounding. “… _Gabe???”_ he texts back after a few seconds of hyperventilating. It can’t be him, _can it_?

“ _In the flesh. Well, not exactly. But you catch the drift.”_

“Yo, slowbro, let’s pick up the pace a little!” Dean calls, walking backwards to face Sam.

Sam looks up, startled and tries to say something, “I’m—just—” but it’s stuck in his throat and he can’t stop looking at his phone, reading the texts again and again in disbelief.

“Did Romeo text you _already_?” Dean asks right next to him, making Sam jump slightly. “Doesn’t he know the three day rule? Gonna look desperate. Or maybe you looked desperate enough for both of you.”

Sam turns to him. “How did you--?”

Dean slaps him on the shoulder. “Who’d you think gave him your number, Einstein?” he exclaims.

Sam looks down again in stunned surprise. “I thought you were giving him _your_ number,” he confesses. “I mean, he was kind of all over you.”

Dean scoffs. “Sam he was totally doing that just to fuck with you. I mean I’d only known the guy for 2 friggin’ minutes and even _I_ could tell that.” Sam continues staring. Dean sighs dramatically. “Maybe you _are_ a lost cause. Maybe you should drop out, I don’t know if you’re qualified for this whole higher education thing.”

“Jerk,” Sam automatically shoots back. But his mouth twists into a huge grin as it all finally clicks. Gabe was messing with him; he likes _Sam_. He wants to go on a _date._ With _Sam._

Another _ding_ interrupts Dean’s, “Bitch,” and Sam hastily opens up the new message.

“ _It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting. Do we have a date or what, Slammer?”_

Sam quickly types out a reply, before striding along ahead of his brother with a smile on his face.

“ _Absolutely_.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](http://www.snugglechesters.tumblr.com)


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